Thursday, November 29, 2012

Jailed SAS sniper Danny Nightingale walked free after his 18 month sentence was suspended following a successful appeal. Earlier this month after he admitted illegally possessing a Glock 9mm pistol and more than 300 rounds of ammunition.

Judges at the Court Martial Appeal Court in London have cut the term to 12 months and said it should be suspended. They said he could be released immediately.

Outside the court, 37-year-old Sgt Nightingale thanked his wife and backers for their "trust and support". He also thanked the "great British public" and said he was "humbled" by the reaction to his plight.

His wife Sally, 38, said she was "very, very happy" and "delighted".

Mrs Nightingale, who earlier wept at the judges' verdict, said: "We fought for this for the last three weeks and we got justice today and I thank everybody in that court and the public."

I'm guessing we have not heard the last of Sergeant Danny Nightengale, and I would not be surprised in the least if I encounter him in my journeys across the Pond. Godspeed, Sergeant Nightengale . . .

However, this has clearly become a political issue and there has been some pressure on this situation. Don't underestimate the esteem that the SAS is held in in Britland.

The true horror is that the laws exist at all that prohibit the decent people from arming themselves. There are cases of such people being sent down for absolutely trivial events that have mandatory sentencing. The happy result here is just a token because the system was clearly nuts. They will not rewrite the legislation as a result however.

It's pleasant that he's not going to prison, and it's mighty white of the appeals court to defer on butt-raping him further.Now he's only out a felony conviction, a career, and some tens of thousands of pounds on a sergeant's pay.

Actual justice would be stringing the original prosecutor and judge up by the balls and giving the Sgt. and his squadron mates half an hour at them with cricket bats. Then expunging the arrest, giving Nightengale back his pistol, and telling him "Thanks for doing your bit over there, mate." And off to the Palace for a photo op handshake from a suitable Royal for the mantle.

Since he won't get that, good luck to him, and hopefully the dutiful asswipes who persecuted him catch a purely coincidental case of broken kneecap from a couple of lads in balaclavas one rainy London evening. In a pinch, 'twould serve.